


Night Terrors

by Andromedas_Void



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Animal Death, Daemon!Prompto, Gen, Human Experimentation, Prompto eats animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromedas_Void/pseuds/Andromedas_Void
Summary: For the first few seconds, all he could see was his own face reflected back – the watery blackness around his eyes, the bright gold eyes, completely encased in black, the scraggly blond hair, little black and purple horns poking out through the strands, curling down towards his ears.--A little Daemon!Prompto AU.Warning: Prompto does catch and eat animals in this, which might be graphic to some people. I tried to keep the scenes as 'light' and as few as possible but they are still in there, hence the 'animal death' tag.





	Night Terrors

The biting cold was the first thing he felt, the first thing he really remembered ever feeling. Next came the snow, pure white, frozen, and wet, around his feet, all the way up to his knees. His clothing was no longer the soft cream color they once were, soaked through and darker as the snow continued to fall around him, chilling him to the bone.

He stopped, staring down at the rapidly rising snow. He could just see the inky black of his shins peeking out below the hem of his shorts, the sharp nails on his toes buried in the icy depths. His arms were wrapped tightly around his small body, the colors bleeding into each other; black to purple to red to a creamy porcelain, a scattering of smaller orange and brown dots on the fairest color. His claws dug into his loose fitted shirt, pulling tight as a full body shiver overcame him.

Looking back up and roughly pushing the long blond hair from his face, Prompto saw a small light through the trees. He watched it for a moment and it stayed in place; never moving, never flickering. Lifting his little legs high up, he trudged through the deep snow, making his way over towards the light.

He was curious as to what it was, if it would somehow lead him to food. His stomach grumbled at the thought, a strong cramp shooting up his side, and he had to pause to breathe through the pain.

Panting, he started walking again, arms pulled tight and claws tearing at the meager cloth beneath them.

The source of the light finally came into view. It was a small building, dark wood and small windows, snow piled up all around it. 

He crept over, gripped the edge of the window frame, and peered in through the glass. 

For the first few seconds, all he could see was his own face reflected back – the watery blackness around his eyes, the bright gold eyes, completely encased in black, the scraggly blond hair, little black and purple horns poking out through the strands, curling down towards his ears. They looked a lot like those creatures he had once seen in the mountains, before he had made his way into the valley. Funny looking things with four legs and warm fur. They had been delicious when he had managed to catch a small one.

There was a small table near the window, a few bowls and an iron pot in the center. Steam was wafting up from the pot and he caught the faintest of scents through the tiny cracks around the frame. Prompto licked his lips, stomach growling again.

Dropping back down to the snow with a soft crunch, he looked around the wall, seeing no way to enter the little building. He made his way around to his right and there was a door. The snow had recently been shovelled away, allowing him easy access as he pushed it open. The hinges whined in protest.

A pleasant warmth left the room, causing another shiver to run through his body, and he stepped into the building. The table was only a few feet away, the wonderful smell stronger now, and he hurried over, preparing to climb onto a chair and get at the pot containing his next meal. One he didn't have to hunt for.

A scream stopped him in his tracks, high pitched, angry, and terrifying. He didn't understand the words being shouted, too scared to comprehend them. A human, much larger and well over twice as tall as his own small, plump frame, rushed at him.

He ran, back out the door, through the deep snow, stumbling and crawling, pushing his body back up and kept on running. A shot rang out overhead and he ducked his head, covering his ears with his hands. Not even the stitch in his side slowed him down. He darted through the trees until he couldn't move anymore, finally falling to the ground and crawling a few more feet. 

A quick glance back told him he was alone. The woods were silent, only the sound of his harsh panting filled his ears. He took a few deep breaths, coughing as the icy air burned his already painfully sore throat.

Humans were scary and he vowed to never go near one again.

–

The ship was back. Prompto had been watching it for a few weeks now. 

It always docked in the same place, the workers unloading and reloading it throughout the night.

He watched the humans closely, following their patterns, waiting for his chance.

_There!_

He dashed out from his hiding space and hurried up the ramp, quickly slipping back into the shadows and out of sight once he was in among the many, many wooden boxes. He kept his mouth closed as he caught his breath, the short dash almost too much for his little legs.

Human voices came into the room and Prompto covered his mouth and nose with his hands, cowering down even lower, desperately hoping they wouldn't notice him. He just wanted to get away from the cold and the snow and the biting wind. He didn't know where the ship would take him but he figured anywhere was better than there.

–

The rocking of the ship made him nauseous again. He had already emptied the contents of his stomach three times, finding an empty bucket to vomit into from the second time on.

He shivered and curled up on his side, holding his stomach. It had been almost a week since he last ate and that had been nothing more than a few squirrels he had managed to catch. They were quick little creatures, darting up trees and out of reach with surprising ease.

He had gone longer without food before, although the thought didn't make his stomach hurt any less.

–

“Ah!” Prompto hissed, yanking his arm back and cradling it to his chest. The blackened skin was blistering from where the sunlight had touched it; large, angry boils flaring up. He blew on the skin, hissing again in pain. 

He hadn't realized he had moved so close to one of the little windows in the cargo hold, the sunlight spilling through and leaving a stretched out oval on the floor and crates around him. He curled up in between two of the windows, arm still cradled gently to his chest.

After a few minutes, he flexed his fingers, sharp claws poking into his palm, leaving pinprick indents. Letting out a quiet sigh, he wondered how much farther the ship would travel until it docked again.

–

There was a port he could see through the little window, humans moving about in the evening light. The whole place was lit up with bright lights high up on posts around the docks. 

He knew the door to the cargo hold was open as the sound had woken him from a nap. He was pertified of being found, of being chased again like the human from the little house in the woods had done a few months back.

Creeping around the crates, he waited and watched, biding his time. He knew there would most likely be water just outside the ship. If he could make it to the door, he could drop into the water and try to swim away. It would save him from having to run through the humans on the dock. He was so tired and hungry he knew he wouldn't be able outrun them. They were all much bigger than him, legs far longer, far faster than he could ever hope to be. 

Not when he was still so little.

It had been several minutes since a human had stepped onto the ship and Prompto peeked through the little window just above his head. No one was walking towards the ship. The humans seemed to be milling around, sitting on some smaller crates that were stacked up on the docks. They weren't even looking at the ship.

It was the perfect opportunity and Prompto grabbed it. He crept closer to the door, eyes darting around and listening closely. He'd dash back into cover if he heard anyone walking up the ramp.

There was nothing, just the faint sounds of the humans talking amongst themselves. He made it to the open door and watched, making sure no one looked in his direction before carefully, and loudly, dropping into the water below.

It was warm, warmer than he'd ever felt, and he ducked under, swimming as fast as he could, ignoring the sting coming from his blistered arm.

Briefly breaking the surface for air, Prompto heard the still far too close voices of the humans, questions being asked and no answers given. He dipped back under and swam.

His arms and legs grew tired quickly. He started to slip deeper under water, water invading his lungs. He scrabbled for the surface, clawing his way back up and coughing once the warm air filled his lungs. 

He wasn't sure how he made it to shore. Perhaps the tide pushed him in. Perhaps he managed to swim by himself. Or perhaps a friendly sea creature helped him out.

He spluttered, coughing up sea water onto the already wet sand. His stomach protested the violent motion, bringing up bile and stomach acid with the water. It splattered on his hands, followed closely by tears that fell from his cheeks as he sobbed.

After a while, his sobs became sniffles which then became soft hiccups. He was still sat on the beach, wet sand clinging to his legs and coating his sick covered hands. Turning slowly, he stared back out at the ocean. The port was off to the side, far enough away that he couldn't even hear the humans working. 

He stood shakily and hobbled over to the water's edge, dunking his hands under the surface and cleansing them. Once he was satisfied they were free of any vomit, he looked up towards the shore, taking in the sight of a new area.

There wasn't much he could see in the low moonlight. The stars were cut off abruptly in the distance, in much the same way as the mountains of the land he had fled from had done. He wondered if there were mountains in this new land. It seemed unlikely as the breeze on his soaked skin was warm, pleasant even. He knew mountains were cold, harsh, unforgiving.

A soft chittering and clicking caught his attention and he turned to find the source of the noise. Blinking as he adjusted to the darkness, he spotted small shelled creatures scurrying about on the sand.

 _Food!_ his brain happily, excitedly supplied. If he could catch one, he could crack it open and get at the soft meat inside.

He salivated at the thought and licked his lips.

He crouched and snuck over, keeping his body low, occasionally dropping to all fours as he crept closer to the crabs. They were bigger than he first thought. The smallest were around his own size. He could eat for a week off one of them.

Glancing up at the moon, Prompto tried to figure out how much time he had until dawn, until he had to find a place to hide. He guessed a few hours at best and turned back to his potential meal.

The crabs had started to get antsy, shifting uncomfortably on the sand and shielding the smaller ones. He frowned but the cramp in his stomach told him to go on.

He flexed his hands, claws sharp and at the ready, and rushed in.

–

The rocks under his feet were still scorching, even after the sun had set hours beforehand. Prompto groaned and whined, trying to find some water, even a small puddle, to cool his blistered soles. He was in a desert that stretched out for what seemed like miles, sparse trees and dried bushes dotting the landscape. 

He had already been in the new land for a week, having walked north from the beach to try to find more food, shelter, and, hopefully, less humans.

There were less humans, that much was a fact. He hadn't seen a single one since he left the deep valley that seperated the lush green grass just north of the beach from the burning hot rocks of the desert.

His legs were tired, feet aching, and his stomach was once again growling loudly.

 _Oh,_ he thought, eyes flying open as the growl grew louder. _That wasn't my stomach._

He quickly scanned the area, freezing in his spot when he saw the black, vicous oil ooze up out of the ground. A creature of the night pulled itself from the void, piercing red eyes boring into Prompto's own golden ones.

They were dangerous. Extremely dangerous, even to Prompto with his claws and talons and fangs. He remembered them from the snowy lands, how they had stalked him in the night but disappeared the light. He wasn't sure what they truly were and he wasn't planning on sticking around to find out.

Sprinting as fast as his short legs could manage, he ran away from the creature.

It gave pursuit, stalking along the ground behind him. Prompto tripped over a rock, skidding along the ground and hissing as the blackened skin of his knees and hands bled. Pushing himself back up, he took off again.

A soft blue light was up ahead and he made for it, knowing the creatures hated lights, not just the one from the sun. A small mound of rock, glowing runes swirling about the edges, came into view as well as a soft thrumming in his ears. He stopped quickly when the thrumming became a razor-sharp pain, radiating throughout his core. He was only a few yards from the mound and his body refused to get any closer, even with the threat of a creature of the night looming behind him.

A shaky look back showed the creature faltering to a stop almost a hundred feet away. It still watched the blond boy, stalking back and forth.

Prompto was rooted to his spot - fear keeping him from moving too far from the mound and pain keeping him from fully approaching it.

The creature huffed out a breath, a fog leaving its mouth, as it turned and walked away, finally giving up the chase.

Only when it was gone from Prompto's sight did he take a proper breath, deep and filled with relief. He turned to stare at the mound, head cocked to the side. He wondered exactly what it was, why the creature hadn't come as close as Prompto had, and why the noise coming from it hurt his body so.

He tried to take another step closer, yelping at the pain that shot through him, and fell back onto his ass, already scraped and bleeding palms being embedded with more dirt and pebbles.

He decided then and there he did not like these mounds or their runes. But he would use them to his advangtage if he couldn't escape from one of the creatures. He just hoped there were more mounds like it in this new land.

–

“Have you kids heard of the infamous Duscae Vampire?”

Prompto squinted from his spot, hidden behind a tree and, thankfully, out of view of the haven. He watched the humans closely, saw how close they could be to the center of the haven, how they were fully protected by its runes and magic.

“Duscae Vampire?” one of the small humans exclaimed. 

Prompto could hear the excitement in their voice and he focussed on the words the taller, older human said.

“That's right,” the older one said. “The Duscae Vampire. Legends say he haunts these very woods, feeding off the wildlife, tearing them to pieces with his claws and fangs, drinking their blood for sustenance.” An audible gasp was heard from the three young humans and Prompto saw them searching the woods from their spots close to the fire.

He ducked back down just in case.

“Only a few people have caught sight of the vampire and lived to tell the tales,” the older human continued.

Prompto wondered what this 'vampire' was. He placed his clawed hand on the ground, stabilizing himself.

“What does he look like?” the small human in the center of the three asked. His voice was much deeper than the other two.

“Well, from what I've heard...” The older human paused, leaning back in his chair, a hand on his face. “They say he's young, just about your age, Adam,” he said, pointing to the human who had asked.

Prompto frowned and studied the small human. He was probably around the same size as the human, the other two being smaller and clearly younger.

The addressed human scoffed, crossing his arms. “I thought vampires were hundreds of years old, not eleven,” he stated, earning a chuckle from the older human.

“Was he turned as a kid?” the smallest human squeaked, sitting on the edge of her seat.

“It's entirely possible,” the oldest said, nodding. “While there are varying stories, most can agree he's young, still a child, and has bright blond hair. Some even claim his skin in two-toned, but others say he wears layers of clothing to hide his skin from the sun.”

Prompto perked up at those words. They sounded like him. A lot like him. He tugged at the blond hair on his head. It had grown much longer in the years since he arrived in the new land, going right down his back. It was annoying. Releasing his hair, he stared at his arm. He would call the skin two-toned, the black and creamy porcelain being the dominate colors.

_A vampire, huh?_

–

There was a corpse, a human who had recently died, in the mouth of the cave that Prompto had been sleeping in. He wasn't there when he found the cave the night before but he was there now. Lying still, tucked up behind a rock and sheltering him from the outside world. His skin was dark but had a tinge of grey to it, an unnatural grey.

Prompto had hid the second he saw the body, fearing it was a human who had found him. A human who had heard the rumors of the Duscae Vampire and gone to hunt him. To kill him.

When he dared to creep closer, he saw the humans eyes were open but glazed over, unmoving and unfocussed. He frowned. Crawling closer, he then noticed the human wasn't breathing, his chest didn't rise and fall like it should have.

He reached out, careful and slow, and touched the human's arm. He was cool to the touch but he wasn't cold yet. Prompto concluded he must have died recently, maybe even shortly before the sun had set.

Pushing his hair behind his ear, the blond crawled even closer and looked the human over. Cuts and scrapes littered his body, mottled bruises making them look even more severe in the bright moon light. He took in the clothing the human wore, glancing down to his own, far too small, clothes, and nodded resolutely.

Stripping the body of its clothing was harder than he thought it would be but he managed. He placed them on his own body in the same way the human had worn them, even though they were a few sizes too large and he had to cinch the belt in tightly, and began seaching the many pockets. A hunting knife was the first thing he found, strapped to the leg of the pants. It was sharp and shiny and cut his thumb when he brushed it against the blade. Deep reddish-black blood slowly came to the surface. Grasping his long hair behind his head, Prompto took the knife, reached back, and cut upwards.

It took a few tries, a few sawing motions, before the hair was fully cut. He felt lighter instantly and grinned. He then grabbed the hair in front, and studied it. It was still too long, always getting in his eyes and mouth. He raised up the knife again and sliced. It came off at an angle, tapering down towards the left side of his jaw. It was an improvement. He pushed the few longer bits behind his blackened ear.

Prompto replaced the knife back in its place and patted down the rest of his pockets. One on the pants, a large pocket above the knee, revealed a small packet filled with even smaller items. He pried it open and sniffed.

It had a unique smell, not entirely dissimiliar to things he had smelled coming from the havens when humans took up a short residence at them. It must have been food. He pulled one piece out and sniffed again, licking the small brown item. He popped it in his mouth a second later, chewing happily. It was spicy and delicious and tasted of meat, but drier, tougher. He ate another piece, his stomach begging and whining loudly for more, but he chose to save them. He never knew when he'd be able to catch a new meal.

Dropping back from his heels and sitting, he pulled the human's boots over and shoved his feet into them, roughly tying the laces around the top to keep them in place. They were tight on his talons and he wiggled his toes, instantly hating how they felt. He shoved them off and kicked the boot away.

Looking back at the human again, Prompto stared, eyes narrowed.

 _Vampires feed on blood,_ he remembered that human saying some weeks ago. During his hunts for food, he had never been opposed to the blood that left a creature as he killed it. It had a strange flavor but wasn't all together terrible. And he was thirsty, the bagged meat he had eaten leaving him parched. 

He smacked his lips together and glanced out of the cave, at the moon ascending into the sky off to the east, the stars twinkling brightly. His eyes turned back towards the human. 

Humans had blood, just like the creatures he hunted. They had meat on them, too. He wondered what it was like. If it was edible, it'd be a waste to leave such a large meal to rot. Wouldn't it?

Leaning forward, Prompto grabbed the human's arm and raised it to his mouth. The skin was cold in his mouth and he closed his eyes, taking a bite, fangs sinking in and breaking the skin.

The taste of the blood that flooded his mouth was vile, coppery and disgusting. He threw himself back away from the body and wiped his tongue off on the sleeve of his overshirt, gagging and spitting on the ground. He hissed at the body and ran off, stumbling over his feet in his haste.

Humans tasted disgusting.

–

The large birds puffed up and made a deep, angry gutteral sound once they noticed Prompto, inches away from the nest of very large, very delicious looking eggs.

He hissed, shoulders rising and baring his fangs and claws at them.

Their feathers ruffled further, heads dipping down, black eyes watching him. They were more intimidating than he could ever hope to be, and sharp talons scrapped across the compacted dirt, leaving deep gouges.

Prompto paused, gulping. Their talons were much larger than his, much sharper, much stronger. He glanced back over to the eggs, so nice and pretty and appetizing, then back to the group of birds, slowly stalking over to him.

He made a quick decision to forgo the eggs and bolted. He heard the birds gave chase.

His lungs burned and legs ached, cramping up painfully by the time he finally lost them. He nearly stumbled, gripping onto the wall beside him and panting heavily. Once he had caught his breath again, he slid down to sit on the ground, back against the rouch cliff wall. His stomach made a whine in protest at the lack of food and he placed his hand upon it, patting lightly and sighing.

Pulling his dirty and torn overshirt closer around his body, Prompto stared up at the night sky. The stars twinkled softly above him, crickets chirping noisily in the nearby woods.

–

He was crouched down low to the ground, hands pressed to the hard and compacted dirt, still warm from the long set sun, as he stalked the hare. They were a rare treat, hardly ever leaving their dens at night, and Prompto wasn't going to let the chance pass him by for a nice meal.

The creature tensed, lifting up to its back paws and sniffed at the air, whiskers twitching and eyes darting around.

Prompto froze with it, eyes narrowed.

A soft crackling pop caught both his and the hare's attention, the latter bolting through the desert shrubbery and out of Prompto's sight. The blond turned towards the noise, fearing the worst.

What he saw had his blood, and the air around him, running cold. Six bombs floating in a tight circle, only a few yards behind from him. Their grinning faces stood out stark on the icy blue of their bodies, sharp deeper blue spikes shooting up from their tops. They bobbed to and fro and Prompto thought they hadn't spotted him yet, thought he could sneak away before they noticed him.

He had only taken a single step away when the six turned towards him, looming closer. The ground beneath them froze over and Prompto stood up straight, hissing and claws out, ready to defend himself.

One swooped close and Prompto lashed out, swiping at it. His claws made contact, the chill of ice stinging as it cracked off the bomb, the chips dissolving back into the ground. He winced and drew his hand back, watching the five bombs.

His eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath. The sixth bomb was missing. The ones in front of him were also spreading out, surrounding him. He clenched his teeth together, twisting and trying to keep all of them in view and find the missing bomb.

The loud crackling pop of shifting ice alerted him to the missing bomb's location as it slammed into his left side. The shock of cold burned his arm, blistering the whole thing. The muscles jerked and Prompto yelped, falling over sideways and into the hard ground.

He crawled away, making his way to a boulder jutting up from the ground and cradling his frozen and limp arm to his chest, knees pulled in tight.

Two of the bombs crept forward, into his barely even a hiding spot, and Prompto cowered, eyes shut tight.

More crackles and pops filled the area, followed closely by the inhuman cry of a bomb. He could hear yelling from his spot, human voices barking out orders, the sound of the bombs snapping and popping. A rush of hot air flew over him, making the chill in his injured arm throb intensely.

The desert grew quiet after a moment, just the crunching of boots on dirt. Prompto remained in his spot, face covered with his arms.

“Whoa, whoa,” a deep human voice warned, closer than Prompto wanted. “Stay back.”

Prompto peeked open one eye, shifting his arms down just enough to see the humans. 

There were three of them staring at him. The closest, tall, wide, and dark haired, had the largest sword Prompto had ever seen, the tip digging into the dirt. He had an arm up, blocking a smaller human with even darker hair who was glancing over the arm. The third human was stood just to their side, a thoughtful look on his face.

“What is he? A deamon?” the smallest asked.

Prompto bristled at the accusation, glaring at the smallest human. “I'm a vampire,” he huffed, nodding his head once. He carefully continued to cradle his ice burned arm as he sat on the ground.

The reaction was not what he was expecting.

The smallest human and the one he was hiding behind laughed while the third blinked in surprise. He smacked the back of his hand against the tallest one's arm, frowning at his two companions. When he turned back to Prompto, his head was tilted to the side, hand under his chin. “You can speak?”

Prompto nodded, frowning at the odd question. He just spoke so it should have been obvious. Maybe this human didn't know vampires could speak.

“Were you infected with the Starscourge?” the human asked.

The blond shrugged, confused. “What's that? Can vampires get it?”

Another laugh came from the smallest human and Prompto looked towards him, watching him step out from behind the largest human.

“You're not a vampire. You're infected with the scourge and turning into a daemon,” he told him.

Prompto shook his head. “No, those creatures vanish in the morning. And they attack me. I'm a vampire.”

The tallest human had crouched down to his level, though he kept his distance. His sword was nowhere to be found anymore and Prompto wondered where he put it.

“I am very sorry to have to tell you,” the third human started, taking a small step closer, “but vampires do not exist. They are a fairy tale.”

Prompto shook his head again and opened his mouth to argue when his right arm was grabbed and tugged away from where it held his injured arm. He yelped and tried to pull away, heels scraping into the dirt.

“He's a human experiment,” the tallest human stated. He released Prompto's arm and the blond curled in on himself. “From Niflheim.” The human stood back up and crossed his arms. “I've never seen one with such a low infection spread.”

“An experiment?” the smallest human asked.

“Human?” Prompto gaped, staring wide eyed at the three humans.

“Are you sure, Gladio?” The third human crouched to look over Prompto.

The largest human, 'Gladio' Prompto now knew, nodded. “He's got a barcode, right there on his wirst. It marks the humans Niflheim infected with the scourge.”

Prompto turned his arm over, spotting the marks. They glowed a soft purple, standing out on the black skin.

“Dad's been letting me shadow him recently,” the one called Gladio went on. “Showed me some photos of the few experiments Lucis had managed to find in the last forty years, once we figured out it was Niflheim who were responsible for the Starscourge being as widespread as it is. All of the people had barcodes like that.”

“What should we do?” the smallest asked. Prompto was startled to see how close he had moved and he shrunk in on himself again. “He's coherent and doesn't seem hostile.”

“We take him with us,” Gladio said simply.

The third human cleared his throat, stepping over to the taller man. “Are you sure that's wise? His infection could spread rapidly.”

“Dad and his team have been trying to find a cure for the scourge. They've managed to halt it in recent years and that was on someone who was at half infection. We might have a better chance at reversal at his level,” Gladio explained.

Prompto perked up at the words. “I... I could be human?” he asked, voice cautious but excited. He didn't know he was a human, although he still was unsure what this 'starscourge' was. He looked between the three humans, Gladio pulling a small rectangle from his pants pocket and poking at it. He caught sight of the horizon behind them, the faint hints of the sunrise lightening the sky, and he shifted uneasily.

“Yeah, we found an experiment while we were out,” Gladio said to the rectangle. There was a short pause before he continued. “About one quarter mutation and completely coherent.” There was a nod. “Yeah, we're bringing him in. Should be back in about an hour.” He poked the rectangle again and slipped it back in his pants pocket.

“Shall we?” the third human asked and Prompto turned, realising he was speaking to him and not Gladio. His hand was extended and Prompto stared at it. “Can you stand?”

He nodded and pushed himself up with his right arm. Once he was upright, he went back to holding his arm gently.

“We got covers in the car to protect you from the sun,” the smallest told him, already walking away. 

Prompto nodded to his back and followed after him.

–

The car was unbearably hot and the covers drapped over Prompto's body only made him feel even worse. He felt sick to his stomach and he counted himself lucky he hadn't caught the hare earlier. It would definitely be on the cover and floor and his face. The man driving, who he learned was named Ignis, had tried to make the car cooler for the blond's sake but there was only so much the little fans could do. The human Gladio was sat next to him, one hand on the back of the seat and an open book in the other.

Prompto had to hunch down when the sun started to peek over the hills, the large sunglasses the smallest human, Noctis, had given him only just protecting his eyes. He pulled the cover closer, burying himself in its folds.

“Do you have a name?”

Prompto glanced up, keeping a firm hand on the cover, and looked towards the voice. Noctis was watching him, turned sideways in his seat.

“I mean, I assume you had one before you were infected, right?”

“Prompto, and I don't remember being infected,” he replied. He remembered being in the snowy land and very small but he had always looked the same.

“Huh,” was the only response as Noctis made a face, eyes passing over Prompto and to Gladio. He turned back around when Ignis cleared his throat. The small rectangle was back in Gladio's hand once Noctis had sat back down, the soft tapping drowned out by the noise of the car.

–

“Prompto, is that correct?” This new human was older than the other three, with soft blue eyes and pale grey hair. When Prompto nodded, still scanning the room, he spoke again. “My name is Doctor Clarus Amicitia and this is Doctor Monica Elshett.”

“You're both called doctor?” Prompto asked, looking between the two. He saw an amused smile pass over both their faces at the question.

“No, no. We are doctors but that isn't our name,” Clarus corrected. “You can call me Clarus and her Monica if you wish. Now, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

Prompto gave him a nod. He shifted on the bed, smooth sheets under his fingers. The lights in the room were bright, hurting his eyes a little and causing him to squint, even through the sunglasses.

“Do you know how old you are?”

“Um...” He frowned, dropping his head as he thought. He tried to figure out how many seasons had passed since he head the story from the group at the haven, counting on his fingers. He pictured a book he had found some years ago, one that taught him numbers and their orders. He could see the number but didn't know how to say it.

Clarus wrote something on the clipboard in his hand while he waited. “Are you unsure?”

Prompto shook his head. “I only know how to say 'eleven', but its more than that.”

“More than eleven,” Clarus said to himself as he wrote more. “Do any of these look correct?” He turned the board around and pointed to a small list along the side of the paper.

He looked over the list, touching his lip as he followed the numbers down. “That one,” he said, pointing.

Clarus circled the number with a nod. “Nineteen. And do you remember how long ago you were infected with the Starscourge?”

“I wasn't,” Prompto answered quickly. “I've always been like this.”

“Always?” Clarus asked, momentarily stunned. “So, the spread of the scourge has always looked like this on your body?” He pointed to Prompto's arm at the words and the blond nodded. More words were written down, quicker than last time. “What's your earliest memory, Prompto? How young were you?”

Prompto bit his lips, thinking. “Small, um. I was in a snowy place then and very small. It was before I came to this land.”

“Niflheim, I assume,” Monica said. She had a small metal tray in her hand, placing it on a small table at the head of the bed. Prompto couldn't clearly see the objects that lay on it, most were in small bags.

Clarus nodded at her words. “Was this land very mountainous?” he asked. “Were there a lot of mountains along with the snow?”

“Very tall mountains and very tall trees,” Prompto said.

“How did you leave that land?”

“I got on a boat and hid,” Prompto told him, smiling. “This land is very warm and nice and has a lot of nice things to eat.”

“That was very smart of you,” Clarus said and Prompto sat up straighter, grinning, sharp teeth exposed. “Might I ask what it is you eat?”

“Meat,” Prompto said quickly. He spotted the woman fiddling with something on the tray, opening a packet and popping it onto the item in her hand. It looked sharp. “What's that?” he asked, pointing to the item.

Monica looked up, eyebrows raised at the question. “This is a vacutainer,” she said. “It's used to draw blood from a patient. If you are okay with it, we would like to draw your blood to study it. Find out why the infection hasn't spread throughout your body.”

Prompto squirmed at the thought of losing his blood.

Clarus noticed his discomfort and placed a light hand on his shoulder. “It's not a lot we need and we shall have a nice snack for you after Monica is finished.”

“A snack?” Prompto asked, perking up again. Snack meant food. And he was really hungry.

“Are you okay with Monica proceeding?” Clarus asked, getting a short nod.

The woman in question moved into position, standing by Prompto's right side and pulling the table closer. “This may pinch a little but I'm going to ask you to try to remain as still as possible, alright?” she asked. “It will only take a minute then I'll be all done.”

Prompto gave her a nod, watching closely as she took his arm, turning it so the inside of his elbow was exposed. A band was tied around his arm and the needle went in. He whimpered, arm twitching, but other than that, he remained still.

The blood that flowed into the small container was a deep, dark red, nearly black in color. He had seen his own blood before but to know someone was taking it from him made him queasy.

The needle was slipped out and a piece of cotton as well as a small sticky piece of paper were put in its place. “You did very well,” Monica smiled, writing on the small vials of blood. “I believe that was a snack well earned.”

Prompto gave her a smile in return, though he still felt ill. He watched as she set the vials down and picked up a small box, puncturing the top and handing it and another, smaller packet out to him.

He sniffed the items carefully, opening the small packet and licking one of the items. It was overly sweet. The liquid in the box was tangy, like those round fruits he had before when he was still in the more lush area of this new land.

Looking back up to the two humans, he frowned, holding out the food and shaking his head.

“Not a fan of sweets?” Clarus asked, chuckling softly.

Prompto shook his head and smacked his lips together, trying to get rid of the flavor. The items were taken from him and placed back on the table. “I want meat,” he pouted.

“I'll see what we can do,” Clarus said, giving Monica a nod as she left the room, tray in hand. “How do you feel, Prompto? Any lightheadedness?” 

“Hungry,” he said, still pouting.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Pursing his lips, Prompto hummed. “Four days ago.”

Clarus paused, pen hovering over the paper. “Is that normal?”

He nodded. “It's hard to catch food when the creatures of the night are out. Most animals go into hiding like I do when the sun is up.”

“You go into hiding?” More writing was being done.

Prompto hummed again, once again looking around the small room. Clarus had pulled over a stool, sitting in front of the blond, and a large chair was along the wall beside the door. He could see a sliver through the thin window in the door, but everything was too bright white for him to make out anything defined. “In caves and stuff. The sun burns my skin if it touches me.”

“Is that what happened to your arm when you were brought in?” Clarus asked.

“No, that was a creature of the night. A cold one burned me,” Prompto told him, barely touching the newly healed skin. He had been given a small glass bottle and told to pour the contents over the wound. It was a weird request but he did it anyway, curious as to what would happen. The liquid had been green and glowing, tingling his skin as it quickly and efficiently healed the burn.

A nod. “And you don't vanish like the daemons do?”

“No. Why do they do that? It's weird,” Prompto stated, turning back to the man.

Clarus shrugged lightly. “We're not entirely sure why they vanish,” he said. “We think it has something to do with how much of the starscourge they have in them but that's mostly an educated guess.”

Prompto nodded and folded his clawed hands in his lap. “The big human, Gladio, said you could turn me into- um, back into a human. Can you?” he asked quietly. “Can you make it so I can go into the sun? It seems so nice and warm.”

Clarus' eyebrows raised at the question and he set the clipboard onto his knee. “Well, I'm not entirely sure if we can, but it's what we aim to do. From what I can see, your progression is by far the least I've ever seen, possibly only twenty five percent. And you said your progress has always looked like this?”

The blond nodded silently.

“That's good. That may mean the infection is dormant, which may give us a better chance at reversing the effects.” Clarus took a breath, writing a few lines on his paper. “I won't lie to you, though. There will be tests and possibly experiments to see if something will work on you but I promise you, if you say stop, we will.”

Prompto gulped, nervous. He didn't like the sound of any of that.

“We will start with something easy; learning about you, personally. Nothing that will hurt, I assure you. Just merely some more questions and a visual exam to track the progress of the scourge,” Clarus went on. “Do you know how much of your body is covered with the scourge?”

“Yeah. It's my arms, legs, and face,” Prompto answered, pointing to the areas as he listed them off.

“Good, good,” Clarus said, writing down the information. “May I see your face without the sunglasses?”

Prompto shrunk back at the question. “The lights hurt.”

“Do they burn?” Clarus asked as he stood. He turned a small dial by the door and the lights dimmed dramatically. “Is that better?”

Slowly and carefully, Prompto pulled the glasses off and blinked back the spots in his eyes. He nodded after a few seconds and placed the glasses on the bed next to him. “They don't burn, but they hurt when they're bright.”

“Well keep them at this level for your stay, how does that sound?”

“Good,” Prompto said, smiling at him. He liked the human Clarus, even if he asked weird questions at times.

–

Prompto was sat on the small couch in his room, a book in his hand and Noctis beside him. The room was dim and the television's sound low as the darker haired man listened to him read. Ignis had been the one to get him a series of books to help him learn while he was living at the Citadel.

It was hard at first but he had a lot of help, from Ignis himself as well as both Gladio and Noctis, although the latter got bored easily.

He had been practising reading out loud for the last few weeks and Clarus had praised him on his improvement, said he was a very fast learner. The words had made the blond grin happily.

His progress at becoming a human was slower but neither Clarus nor Monica seemed upset by that fact. They had been running test and trying things on him for nearly a year before something worked. It had been an injection that Clarus said was 'a combination of the King's magic' and some other things Prompto didn't know or remember the names of.

The first signs it had worked was when Monica had noticed the blackened skin on his legs had started to recede. Only a few millimeters, they told him, but it was a good sign.

That had been nearly eight months ago. The spread of the blackened skin had faded by almost three inches on both his arms and legs, his claws and talons shrunk and dulled, and he had started to develop a taste for fruits and vegetables. Granted, he believed that last one was because Monica had him eat at least a small portion during his meals and he just grew used to the flavors.

His bedroom had become cozier in the time he had been there as well. Clarus had had extra furniture brought in, like the couch and television, and even a small dresser for the clothing he was given. Noctis would occasionally leave a small blanket in the room after a visit, one Prompto typically fell asleep under. They always smelled so nice and warm and safe.

The two of them were under one of the covers as Prompto read. It was thick and furry and a soft grey, keeping his legs and bare feet toasty as the months grew colder. Or so he had been told. His room didn't have a window - to protect him from the sunlight - and he wasn't allowed outside yet. He didn't mind so much. He was safe and well fed and had friends who visited him. And he was learning to read and write, thanks to Ignis.

He was happy. Even if he never became a full human, he was still happy.

–

Prompto grinned, squinting up at the bright winter sun through his sunglasses. The sky was a clear, pale blue and tiny wisps of clouds drifted lazily by. Most of the sky was blocked off by the tall walls of the building, the courtyard completely enclosed on the Citadel grounds. The ground underneath his thick boots crunched with a fresh layer of snow. He shivered, wrapping his arms around his body.

Five years since he first met Noctis and his friends in the desert, he was finally out in the sunlight. It was the first big test during his cure. Clarus and Monica had been hesitant to let him outside, even with how far the scourge had receded on his body, leaving only a rim of gold around his pupils and overly sharpened teeth, but Noctis had insisted the blond would be fine. _”I'll bring him in at the first sign of trouble,”_ Noctis had promised.

The two doctors had agreed after some more convincing and Noctis swept Prompto away to bundle up in coats and sweaters and scarves. Prompto had thought all the layers of clothing was overkill but the biting cold outside told him otherwise and he was silently grateful for Noctis' insistence.

He felt something rub against his leg and jumped back, looking down at the snow. A small, white fluffy cat looked up at him, mewling softly and walking over to rub against his boot again.

“That's Mallow,” Noctis explained. He crouched down to pet the cat. “She's Ignis' cat.” He stood, the cat in his arms. 

Prompto waved to the cat, getting an uninterested look in return.

“Go on. Pet her,” Noctis urged. “She's friendly.”

Biting his lip, he reached out and gently stroked the cat on the head. Mallow closed her eyes and purred.

Noctis smiled, “I think she likes you.”

Prompto grinned cheerfully.


End file.
